


A Garden Arrangement

by ChubbyHornedEquine, kerkusa



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Between the two of them, Fluff, Garden parties, hide the snek, they've one whole braincell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29010894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChubbyHornedEquine/pseuds/ChubbyHornedEquine, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerkusa/pseuds/kerkusa
Summary: Aziraphale & Crowley cross paths at a garden party, super unintentionally of course, only they aren't the only celestials around!
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 47
Collections: Do It With Style Good Omens Reverse Bang





	A Garden Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

> Really excited to be a part of the Reverse Bang Event! I've teamed up with Kerkusa to bring you a fun little one shot with the ineffables! The fic was written by me, inspired specifically from Kerkusa's art. You can also find him on [Instagram! ](url)  
> Rated T for language, oh my.

Aziraphale settled on the edge of his little garden seat. The layers upon layers of his skirts meant he couldn't do much more than sit on the edge, and even that was a small miracle. (Literally.) But still, he _liked_ this point in time. He liked the fashions, the layers, and laces, and patterns. The ruffles. And the hats. Oh goodness the hats. Arrays of _whole bouquets_ atop a person's head! Flowers, fruits, berries, giant peacock feathers, feathers of all kinds, sometimes _birds_ of all kinds. He was personally a fan of the flowers and fruits. So many colors. And if he sometimes snuck a berry and popped it in his mouth when no one was looking well, who was to say?

The afternoon's events were well underway. Some garden party of someone with too much time on their hands and even more money. He was there on very official, very angelic business, of course. And it just so happened there were well over a hundred people milling about the front gardens, the maze, the patios and balconies and all the sitting rooms. It was hardly his fault if he couldn't quite locate the person he was supposed to be blessing. It also wasn't his fault if he perhaps, accidentally, completely unplanned, ran into a certain hereditary enemy. These parties were always so _large_ , so many _people_ , and it is a small world they say.

Crowley looked dapper as ever in his suit. A dart of black and red, sleek and smooth like the serpent he was. Aziraphale spotted him a little ways away, smiling and winking and flashing those teeth at the gaggle of women that had crowded around him. He watched with a smile because he knew Crowley would find an excuse to slip away and come be with him.

Sure enough, not a moment later, he backed away, kissing gloved hands as he went. Aziraphale looked away just as Crowley turned toward him; wouldn’t do to be caught staring.

Crowley set down a plate of delicate cakes and desserts, Azirapahle hadn't seen him nick it, it just simply appeared, and sat in the seat opposite him.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Fell."

"Mr. Crowley."

"Thought you'd sworn off parties of this sort after..." he tilted his head toward him, brows raised high above his glasses.

"Well this is hardly _Rome_ , my dear. That was a...fluke. I highly doubt anything of that nature would transpire here."

"Not with all those layers," Crowley muttered under his breath.

"Anyway,” Azirpahale said, “what brings you here?” He, of course, knew exactly what brought Crowley to this particular garden party: he'd invited him. They'd run into each other a handful of times throughout town over the last few weeks but never had a chance to talk or catch up without raising eyebrows, Aziraphale being an unchaperoned lady and all. But at these parties everything was a bit...looser. People came and went, there was entertainment, musicians, performers, painters. Conversations started in one room and ended somewhere else, on a completely different floor, with completely different people as everyone mingled and wandered.

It was the perfect opportunity to see one another in plain sight, while doing their jobs of course, without raising suspicion.

"Oh you know,” Crowley said, playing along as was their routine, "was in the neighborhood. Seemed like it'd be a bit of fun. You gonna try your cake?"

"Oh of course, how rude of me." Aziraphale picked up the small fork and took a demure piece, raising it to his lips.

He knew Crowley was watching, he always watched. Serpentine eyes following his every movement. Aziraphale looked up to catch his gaze, which he could just barely see through the tint of his glasses, and slipped the fork into his mouth.

Oh it was delightful! A soft, fluffy cake with a hint of berry filling, the sweetest layer of icing on top.

Aziraphale wiggled.

The edge of Crowley's mouth quirked.

He took a deep breath and turned away, looking out at the party around them, "Have you any plans for the afternoon, Ms. Fell?"

"It's a bit warm right now, so I thought I'd better keep to the shade for a bit. But perhaps later I might join some of the dancing."

"And is your dance card full?"

"No, unfortunately. Not a single soul. I'm a bit clumsy I'm afraid and people value their toes."

“Toes are overrated.”

“Spoken like a true serpent.”

“Legs too.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to dance with me?”

“Didn’t say that, just that I clearly don’t value my toes.”

Aziraphale took another bite of his cake, Crowley pretended not to watch.

They talked about the weather and then the food, they talked about the clothes of the century, of the decade. They gossiped about the humans around them, their lives, what they got up to, each sharing scandalous information the other hadn’t yet heard. They people watched and bird watched and cloud watched. Aziraphale’s cake replaced with another slice, a cup of tea, a small sandwich.

It was wonderful.

He smiled a sly smile at Crowley, who tilted his head back and smirked.

And then Aziraphale’s gaze caught a glimpse of something off in the distance and he froze. “Oh no…”

“S’matter, angel? Run out of cake? I’ll get--”

“No! It’s--we’re not alone.”

“Well yeah, it’s a party?”

“ _Angels.”_

Crowley sat up at that.

“No, don’t look. Don’t make a fuss.”

“ _Shit._ Who is it? How far off?”

“Gabriel and Uriel.”

“Ugh.”

“And Michael.”

“Oh _come on_.”

“They haven’t spotted me yet. You’ve got to hide.”

“Bloody _where_ , angel? If I use a demonic miracle this close to them…”

“I--” Aziraphale glanced around desperately. He peered over the hedge behind them but no such luck, a couple was whispering sweet nothings just below. That was _supposed_ to be him and Crowley. All around them were people which was _supposed_ to make it easier to hide in plain sight from a distance. Just in case Heaven peeked down. He didn’t think any angels would show up suddenly. Crowley couldn’t exactly disappear amongst the crowd, not with his blasted penchant for dark clothes. His lean, black clad body and red hair weaving through a sea of creams and pastels and oh _blast it all_.

“Are they getting any closer?”

“No, I don’t think--Oh no. Gabriel’s spotted me.”

“What?”

“Quick, get under the table.”

“ _What?”_

“Crowley please!” Aziraphale snapped his fingers, risking a very small miracle to make the table cloth longer and made of something not quite as sheer as lace. He realized, belatedly, he probably ought to have made the table itself _bigger_.

The hedge behind him rustled a bit as Crowley knocked into it, the tip of one of his shoes sticking out from under the cloth. Aziraphale nudged it with his own foot and Crowley’s shoe darted in, followed by hushed cursing. He could feel a shoulder pressed against his leg.

Oh lord and here came the angels.

“Aziraphale!” Gabriel practically boomed form several feet away.

He offered a tight smile in return as he jumped to his feet, attempting to block more of the table with his skirts. “Gabriel,” he said when they were all closer for actual conversation. “It’s Ms. Fell, by the way. Have to blend in with the humans you know.”

“Right, right. Felt a small miracle on my way over, nothing frivolous I hope?”

“Not at all, I uh, just wanted to whip up an extra seat for you, in case you wanted to si--ah!” He cleared his throat with a gentle cough. Crowley had pinched his calf. Clearly he was not a fan of Gabriel joining them.

Gabriel eyed the seat with a face, “No. I try to _touch_ as little of,” he gestured, “human things as possible.”

“Yes, right. Of course.” He fiddled with the lace on his sleeve. Uriel had a small plate with a bit of cake on it that she was tucking into, Michael stood impassively to the side, holding a walking stick, and Gabriel continued to stare at the chair as if it had personally offended him. “So,” Aziraphale tried, “what erm, what brings you here? All of you? At once? Right here?”

Uriel shrugged, “Wanted to see what the fuss was.”

“All caught up on paperwork,” Gabriel said. “Not that you’d know what that’s like, right?”

Aziraphale smiled politely in the face of Gabriel’s wide grin at his joke. At least Aziraphale thought it was a joke. Never could tell with Gabriel.

“Ri-right I um. Well there’s so much to do down here.”

“There’s so _many_ of them,” Gabriel said with a sneer. “Blugh.”

Uriel snapped and more cake appeared on her plate.

Surely Aziraphale wasn’t meant to entertain them. This wasn’t even his party! Why were they just...standing there?

“Do you smell that?” Gabriel asked.

“The cake?” asked Aziraphale.

Gabriel leaned over to sniff at Uriel’s cake. “No, it’s not that. Smells...hmm…”

“Like brimstone,” Michael said.

“Yes!” said Gabriel. “Brimstone! That’s it! Evil! Where’s it coming from?”

Aziraphale swallowed, “Really? I-I don’t smell--OH MY HNN!” He swallowed his cry as _something_ slithered around his ankle and started to wind up his leg.

The angels stared at him.

“I-uh-just...n-noticed that sculpture! Over there!” He pointed across the garden, “Isn’t it marvelous?”

The angels turned to look and Aziraphale did his best not to squirm as Crowley made his way over his hip, around his waist and slowly up his back. It _tickled_. He felt the slide of scales creep up the back of his neck and then his hat felt a bit heavier. The angels looked back at him.

“It’s just frozen water, Aziraphale,” Gabriel said.

“Well yes but um, think of how quickly they must have to carve it before it melts! It truly fascin--”

“That smell is still here,” Gabriel said with a grimace. “Do humans smell like that?”

“No,” said Uriel. “They smell worse.”

“That means there’s a demon around,” Gabriel said, a disturbing amount of glee in his voice. “We should find it! A good smiting is just what this afternoon needs.”

“Oh, uh,” Aziraphale stammered. He needed to get Crowley away and fast. “I don’t think any uh, demons would be around--”

“Why don’t you two go search that way,” Michael said, “Aziraphale and I will search this half of the garden.”

“I--”

“Great idea,” Gabriel said! “Come on, Uriel!”

Uriel swallowed the last bit of her cake with a groan and miracled the plate away as she followed behind Gabriel.

“Uh--”

“Come along, principality.”

Aziraphale wrung his hands as he followed Michael. They walked in silence for a while. Every so often Michael would poke a hedge with her walking stick or lift the edge of a tablecloth, but, well it didn’t seem to Aziraphale like she was actually looking. She seemed bored. He wanted to reach up and run a calming finger down Crowley’s spine, he could still feel him curled up on his hat, no doubt buried in the flowers and fruit. He considered taking the hat off, setting aside, so that Crowley could slink away but Michael didn’t stop long enough, she just kept walking.

Finally, they stopped at the top of a flight of stairs, the landing looking out over the Eastern half of the garden. Below people still milled about, even as the sun began to set, the laughter and music barely making its way up to where the two angels stood.

She smelled of sandalwood. He’d never noticed that before.

Aziraphale glanced around them, Gabriel and Uriel were nowhere to be seen.

“I don’t see the appeal,” Michael said into the quiet.

“Of? Of...parties?”

“Humans. Earth. Why do you _stay_ down here?”

“It’s nice.”

“It’s fleeting.”

“Well...yes. But humans have a, um, a goodness to them.”

He didn’t know how to say it was because he felt happier on Earth. Because Earth smelled of flowers and dirt, and yes, sometimes more unpleasant smells. But it had delicious desserts and wondrous art and plays and music. Because humans were always creating something. That he wasn’t lonely on Earth the way he was in Heaven. He settled on, “There’s so much to do and experience here.”

“It’s busy. Crowded.”

“Not always! Sometimes you can find a lovely--”

“That’s an interesting hat, Aziraphale.”

His heart plummeted to his feet. “...is it?” His voice came out as a squeak despite his best efforts.

“I see the theme. Flowers, fruit, a little garden on your head.”

“I--”

“Complete with snake.”

“Is-is there? I didn’t notice, I, it was just, something I grabbed on the way--”

“It’s more brazen than I would have ever given you credit for.”

“Uh--”

She turned to him, her movement sharp, and pressed the head of her walking stick to his chest. Aziraphale stared down at it, heart pounding. The handle was the shape of a chameleon, the tail winding down and around the cane. What an odd choice.

“I will only say this _once_ Aziraphale, is that clear?”

“Y-yes.”

“Sandalwood.”

He blinked.

“Or lavender, although I’m not a fan of it. Cardamom, sage, bergamot, frankincense if you’re feeling a bit ironic.”

“I don’t…”

“They’re quite fragrant. I’ve found them to be more than adequate in masking the smells of,” she shrugged towards the party around them, “non-angelic scents. You’d do well to take note. Since you’re so keen on spending time here.”

“I see.” He could barely hear his own voice. He wasn’t sure what was happening. He knew what was happening but he couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

“Good.” Her cane lifted from his chest. “I’m done here. We’ll head back up. I’ll tell Gabriel you’re staying behind. I’m assuming you have,” her gaze flicked to his hat, “a previous engagement.”

His throat went dry. She knew. She _knew_ and she wasn’t...going to do anything? She was giving advice. She was helping them. Why?

“Y-yes,” he managed. “I’ve a few blessings to do in the area.”

“I look forward to seeing your report.”

Aziraphale watched Michael walk away without another word. She reached the bottom of the steps and zipped up and back to Heaven. A few moments later he could see in the distance the same ripple in the air as Gabriel and Uriel left as well. Still, it was a few minutes more before Aziraphale felt himself sigh with relief.

The weight of his hat shifted as Crowley lowered over the side, just into his line of sight. “Well, that was interesssssting.”

“I don’t know if that’s the word I would use, my dear.”

“We should...probably talk about that.”

Aziraphale stared at the spot where Michael disappeared. “Perhaps…”

“Angel?”

“Do you know, I do believe there’s some lavender growing just outside the maze. What would you say to some flower picking?”

Crowley slithered down, winding his way around Aziraphale’s neck, draping lazily over his shoulder, “Hmm. Not trying to get out of that dance, are you?”

“Perish the thought, my dear,” Aziraphale said as he started down the steps. “Your toes are forfeit, you said so yourself.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

“You most certainly did. And besides, I think lavender suits you quite well.”

He felt Crowley nuzzle against his jaw, “If it’s what you like, angel, lead the way.”

Later they would have a sit down and talk and figure out just what had happened and what it meant. Later they might decide to play it safe. Later they might even argue. But right then, they were going to pick flowers, and dance in the maze, and it would be perfect.

  



End file.
